New England High WASP Meets Swedish Empire, Meets Santa Barbara Semi-Tropics

This is my mother's house. The living room, one morning last week. Christmas wreath still hanging above the fireplace. Signs of High WASP eclecticism everywhere.

My mother said to me, in the midst of the semi-chaos, "You should do something for yourself." A mani-pedi wasn't in the cards. But it was completely possible to take pictures here and there. I asked both my mother and stepfather for permission to put up these photos, and they were kind enough to agree.

Their house is a classic merger, of old, new, Sweden, New England, Santa Barbara. And a couple of families.

For example, desks. From New England.

From Sweden. With new technology. And old.

Clocks. From Tiffany.

And somewhere in Sweden. Now next to a thermostat. As a house isn't a museum, after all. And winter's cold, even in Santa Barbara. Especially if you just got out of surgery.

Avocado trees. Palms. And tropical flowers that grow like weeds. Maybe they are weeds here.


Flowers sent to the hospital. And carried home. Murano glass candies, to be played with by grandchildren. Very useful in teaching the ultimate High WASP principle, i.e., delayed gratification.


And, like families everywhere, a wall of pictures.


Brothers, sisters, stepbrothers, stepsisters, mother, cousins, stepfather. Family.


Images: me. First one with a Panasonic Lumix. The rest with my iPhone and the ShakeIt fauxlaroid application. Because if you can't do a real photo shoot, fake it in low-fi. If it's good enough for Hollister Hovey, it's more than good enough for me.